


The Playdate

by plant_owner



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1982, Family, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Not Canon Compliant, Other, Sisters, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23877979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plant_owner/pseuds/plant_owner
Summary: In 1982, Narcissa Malfoy receives an unexpected playdate invitation for Draco.
Relationships: Narcissa Black Malfoy & Andromeda Black Tonks
Kudos: 19





	The Playdate

Narcissa had taken a long time to answer the invitation, knowing Lucius wouldn’t approve. It was only for a few hours, and Draco was so young. It couldn’t do any harm. That’s what she told herself over and over after she sent the reply owl.

Lucius had not asked, so she did not tell him. She simply said, “Good luck. I love you,” as she kissed Lucius goodbye that morning. She watched from their bedroom window as he apparated from the garden, with a crack echoed by a chorus of harsh cries from the startled peacocks.

Narcissa wondered if Andromeda picked the date to align with the St. Mungo’s board meeting. Lucius’s father, Abraxas, was insisting that Lucius attend anything, everything that looked good. Large amounts of money—she never knew how much—were being donated to the right sort of charities, Lucius had to get himself on every committee, and Narcissa occasionally had to go to luncheons and special auctions, and smile and nod, and act as though other witches’ babies held any interest for her at all.

But all things considered, Bella considered, it was a light price to pay, she reminded herself as coaxed tiny socks over Draco’s chubby feet.

“No,” he said, an adorable furrow appearing between his big blue eyes. He was perched on the edge of a stiff claw-footed sofa, and defiantly, he swung his feet in an attempt to escape the shoes.

“Of course you need shoes, silly,” Narcissa replied. She couldn’t help but smile at him. “Don’t you want to be a big boy who wears boots, just like Daddy?”

He put out a lip, but also stuck out his legs.

“What a big boy!” Narcissa gasped and gave him a little tickle. He broke down and smiled at her again, now carefully holding his feet out for her and looking at his shoes proudly.

“Where are we going?” he asked. On a normal day, they might have played in his nursery or walked around in the garden, the white peacocks following behind them like a parade of ghosts. They only ever went in the sitting room when they were traveling by floo powder.

“We’re going to someone’s house to play for a little bit.”

“Greg?”

Thank god, no, Narcissa thought. Although she was not good at small talk, Mrs. Goyle made her look like a sparkling conversationalist. She didn’t understand why Lucius didn’t cut ties. Surely that would have looked less suspicious than all of them coming out from under the Imperius curse and remaining constant companions.

“No, not today.” She drew in a shaky breath and reminded herself that Lucius never bothered to ask Draco how he’d spent the day. He loved his son, or rather, he loved having a son, but he had no patience for a toddler’s prattle. “We’re going to visit your Aunt Andromeda, and you’ll get to play with your cousin, Nymphadora.”

“Cousin?” Draco repeated dubiously as he scooted off the sofa. He took the hand she offered him, and they went to the fireplace.

“That’s right. Your very own cousin, and your aunt. She’s Mummy’s oldest sister.” Narcissa picked Draco up and balanced him on one hip while she took a handful of floo powder with the other. They stepped into the green flames together as she said, “204 Stroxton Lane.” Travelling by floo scared Draco, and he tucked his face into her shoulder as they began to spin. He kept it buried there when they stopped. Narcissa understood. She hated new places too, and somehow Andromeda made her more nervous than strangers.

She stepped from the fireplace into a living room. It was smaller than the sitting room she and Draco had left. Instead of highbacked chairs upholstered in grey silk, there was a big leather armchair and a large red couch with yellow throw pillows stuffed against the arms. Crayons littered the rug before the fireplace, and a small shoe peaked out from under a couch cushion.

“Mum, they’re here!” a girl cried. Narcissa turned towards the doorway, where a small girl with cherry red hair pointed delightedly in her direction. Behind her stood Andromeda. She had not changed much since she was seventeen. She still looked much like Bella in the face. Of the three, those two had shared the dark coloring, the severe features. Andromeda now wore her dark brown hair in a wavy brown bob rather than the long hair they had all had as children.

“Glad you could make it, Narcissa. Dora’s been so excited all morning.” Andromeda smiled and nodded towards the girl. The girl, Dora, wore muggle clothes: a grey sweater with a green dinosaur, stripped leggings, and red lace up shoes. But Andromeda wore dark grey robes, not too different from Narcissa’s own blue ones.

Narcissa nodded and tried to smile down at the little girl who now stood by her feet beaming up at her. She turned to Draco, still hiding in her hair. “Want to say hello to your cousin, Draco?” He peeked out nervously, then burrowed back in. Dora giggled.

“Come on into the kitchen,” Andromeda said. “I’ve got tea and chocolate milk for the kids.”

Narcissa followed her, trailed by a skipping Dora, into the kitchen. It was a little cleaner, if still small and crowded. Narcissa sat down at the table, while Andromeda tapped a tea pot with her wand, steam erupting from the spout. Dora sat down next to her aunt, bouncing slightly in her chair.

“And how old are you?” Narcissa asked her. Looking at her more closely, she could see little bits of Andromeda in the heart-shaped face. The bright red hair on the other hand, was a complete mystery.

“I’m seven and two months,” Dora said proudly. “You’re really pretty. You look like a princess.”

Narcissa laughed. “Well, thank you. That’s very nice of you to…” She trailed off as the little girl’s face transformed. Her dark brown eyes lightened to blue, her features became delicate and pointed, and her hair suddenly grew into a waist-length light blonde. Narcissa gasped, then turned to Andromeda for an explanation. Andromeda just calmly set mugs in front of her and Narcissa, and a plastic mug and sippy cup in front of Dora and Draco.

“Oh yes, that’s Dora’s favorite trick to impress adults,” she said. Narcissa continued to gape at herself in miniature, who was happily drinking milk from a plastic cup with little unicorn foals prancing on it.

Draco, who had finally emerged with the promise of chocolate milk, was staring at his cousin now. His chubby face managed to look affronted.

“I’m a Metamorphmagus,” Dora informed her and offered Draco his sippy cup. He took the handle in his tiny hand but continued to watch this mysterious impersonator with suspicion.

“That’s quite impressive,” Narcissa said, finding her voice again.

“And look at your little man,” Andromeda said, hunching down and trying to catch Draco’s eye from across the table. “He’s two, isn’t he?”

“Yes.” Narcissa smiled and smoothed Draco’s white blonde hair.

“He could not look more like you and Lucius. They will line up for him when he gets older, a pretty boy like that.”

“Can we play now, Mummy?” Dora asked, knocking over her empty cup as she jumped down from her seat. Narcissa righted it, hastily, but Andromeda didn’t appear to have noticed.

“Sure,” Andromeda told Dora. “We can go out on the step to watch them,” she reassured Narcissa, who hadn’t let go of Draco once. Narcissa nodded and set Draco down to toddle after Dora.

The garden was large, with sprawling patches of flowers and gnarled oak trees whose leaves were just beginning to turn a coppery orange. Dora was showing Draco around the yard, proudly pointing out trees she’d fallen out of and the best places to see rabbits. At the far end of the lawn was a large pond, and seeing it, Narcissa drew in a sharp breath.

“The pond is warded, in case you’re worried,” Andromeda said calmly, watching her.

“Warded?” Narcissa still did not take her eyes off of Draco.

“No one under the age of seventeen can go near it, unless Ted or I lift the spell.”

“Oh! That’s clever,” Narcissa said, and mentally made a note to herself to ward nearly every item in Malfoy Manor. She pushed her slivery blonde hair back and gave Andromeda a nervous smile. “I just worry about him constantly. I love him more than anything,” she said.

Andromeda smiled back. “I know how you feel. I expected to love Dora, but the intensity of it caught me off guard.” She flicked her wand, summoning the teapot and mugs to join them outside.

“Do you think Mother felt that way too?” Narcissa asked, a little breathlessly. She didn’t know if Andromeda would want to talk about their parents.

Andromeda looked thoughtful. “She certainly felt that way about you. But you were like Draco, a Veela of a baby in looks, and the best behaved of all of us. Mother was positively sobbing when they dropped us all off for your first year at Hogwarts, and she and Father sent you an owl every day didn’t they?” she asked, teasing.

“Not every day,” Narcissa protested, but smiled.

She and Andromeda sat drinking their tea on the step while Dora tried to play catch with Draco. She rolled a blue rubber ball towards him, and he hurried after it, his hair glowing white in the sunlight, only to fall on top of the ball every time. Then she tried to coax him to roll it back, with little success. He preferred to hoist the ball in his tiny arms and throw it behind him. Each time he gave Dora a satisfied smirk as though he had foiled her, but she would just laugh and chase down the ball to try again. Her looks had gone back to normal, or what Narcissa supposed was normal for Dora.

“Is her hair always red?” she asked.

“No. It changes with her favorite color. It was blue two weeks ago.” Andromeda chuckled softly. “If her little trick earlier scared you, imagine what it was like when she was one and she would just take after whoever she saw last. I get along with Ted’s mother, but to look down at your one-year-old and see your mother-in-law’s face and hair.” She grimaced.

“Has she shown any other signs of magic?”

“Little things. She never hurts herself falling, which is lucky given her history with stairs,” Andromeda answered. “But she’s no Bellatrix, setting everything on fire.”

Narcissa felt her breath catch in her throat. She tried not to think about Bella. Then she felt guilty for not thinking about her. They had been closer, she and Bella, with Andromeda the slightly distant older sister. Her first year was Andromeda’s seventh and Bella’s third. She had not ignored them, but she was often aloof and absent. In retrospect, Narcissa realized, it was because she had been sneaking around with some mudblood she didn’t dare bring home.

“Draco’s still a little young,” Andromeda said, pulling her out of her reverie.

“Yes, but of course he’ll be a wizard with his blood,” Narcissa said, lifting her chin slightly.

“Of course,” Andromeda echoed, but it sounded a little sarcastic. “How are things with Lucius?”

“Fine. How are things with the—how are things with you?”

Andromeda gave her a hard stare, her lip curling up just a little. “Good save,” she remarked coolly. “It’s nice. I love Ted, we love Dora, Ted still likes his job at the Ministry, and my spellwork is going well.”

Narcissa had forgotten to ask about her sister’s research. She had known dimly that Andromeda developed new spells, transfigurations specifically. Someone had mentioned Andromeda to her not long ago at a dinner, asking if it wasn’t her sister who had just patented a new spell, the transfiguration of food to increase nutritional value. Fortification, the wizard had called it. She ought to mention the encounter, Narcissa thought, Andromeda would be pleased.

But Dora, hurrying to catch up to the ball that Draco had rolled far wide of her, tripped and popped back up covered in mud and grass stains. Narcissa froze, and she dropped her eyes to the ground, not wanting to watch what came next.

“You all right?” Andromeda called. Her voice, Narcissa noticed, wasn’t angry or cold. She glanced back up as Dora gave her mother two thumbs up and went right back to playing.

“You don’t mind,” Narcissa said faintly.

“Of course I don’t mind. She’s seven.” Andromeda drained the last of her tea and gazed thoughtfully at Draco. “Surely you don’t parent the way Mother and Father—”

“Never.” Narcissa couldn’t imagine punishing Draco at all, and certainly not like that. “I suppose you have to do all your own cleaning though.” She glanced back into the small house. “No house elf?”

Her sister snorted. “Yes, and what a hardship it’s been learning those four new spells.”

Narcissa prickled at her tone. “Well, I’m glad to hear that you’re making do.”

“Will you and Lucius be able to afford yours after he’s paid his way out of suspicion?” Andromeda asked, arching one eyebrow.

“How dare you,” Narcissa hissed.

Andromeda gave a lazy flick of her wand towards the children, saying, “muffliato,” as she did. “Don’t get me wrong, Cissy. I’m glad you have a husband and Draco has a father at home, but you don’t expect me to believe that utter bullshit about his being forced into anything. I went to school with Lucius. I know exactly the sort of company he kept, and willingly.”

Narcissa glanced out at the children, anxiously, but they were still playing happily.

“They can’t hear us. That’s the spell,” Andromeda said.

“You don’t know anything, about Lucius or me,” she said, turning now to glare at Andromeda.

“I don’t know anything? You forget that I’m your sister. I grew up a Black, just like you and Bellatrix. Just like Sirius and Regulus.”

“Not that it shows.”

“Yes, Ted and I managed to nicely avoid any ties to dark magic, without even trying.”

“You make one more accusation about Lucius—” Narcissa’s wand was now clenched in her hand.

“It’s less an accusation and more a statement of fact. And what, Cissy, you’ll curse me?” Andromeda rolled her eyes. “If you were Bella, I’d be more worried.”

“Stop it. Just because you never loved her, it doesn’t mean you can make jokes.” Narcissa stared out at the children and the garden, pressing her lips together firmly. She was not going to cry in front of Andromeda.

“She’s my sister, and I did love her. I still think about when she was a little girl, playing with the knarls that got into the garden and dressing up in Grandmother’s old robes. Don’t think it doesn’t break my heart to know she’s in Azkaban.” Andromeda was fiercely blinking away her own tears, a similar set in her own lips.

“Andy.” Narcissa softened, and she began to stretch her hand out to touch Andromeda’s shoulder.

“Or to know she’s the sort of person who would do… that.” Andromeda shuddered.

Narcissa’s hand fell back into her lap. “You think she deserves it,” she said stiffly.

“You know what she did right?” Andromeda’s face was incredulous. She staring at Narcissa with genuine curiosity and concern. “Do you actually know? Not what Lucius or anyone else has told you. You read in the papers what she did to the Longbottoms?”

Narcissa ignored her patronizing tone. Of course, she had read it. She had sunk to the cold marble floor, unable to breathe, sobbing noiselessly. Not for the Longbottoms, but for Bella, for the horror of it all, for what their lives had become. For herself. Lucius hadn’t even allowed her to go to the trial, to see her sister one last time. His friends could still stop by for tea, but Bellatrix was cut from their lives now. She wasn’t allowed to grieve her sister, her best friend, publicly.

“I know it’s hard.” Andromeda was staring into her empty mug. “I know you miss her. That’s why I wanted to invite you out here. We’re sisters. And we’re the only two Blacks left.”

Her mug of tea was no longer warm, but Narcissa’s hands were clenched around it, white knuckled. Out in the garden and unaware of their mothers, Dora and Draco were still playing. He was shrieking with laughter as Dora played peek-a-boo with him. He was a little old for it, but she supposed the game had new novelty to it when the person across from you had a new face every time they emerged.

“Of everyone in the world, Cissy, I’m the one who understands.” Andromeda continued, watching the children too. “Sometimes I just want to tell Nymphadora a story about us when we were little. Just about Bella and her knarls, or Sirius putting spiders in your hair, or that Christmas when we nearly lost Regulus in that vanishing cabinet playing hide and seek. Just once, I want to tell her about us without Ted looking panicked. Or to complain about the dinners, and the robes, and those godawful family portraits with someone who understands. I know our parents were wrong, that they were liars, all that _toujours pur_ bullshit. But it was my childhood, and you are my family.” She still looked stern, her jaw set and her eyes fierce, but she brushed away tears that ran down her cheeks.

“But you didn’t want to be a part of our family anymore. You chose.” Narcissa slammed her mug down hard on the step beside her. She heard the china shatter. “I am still pure, my son is pure. You chose to marry some mudblood—”

Instantly Andromeda’s wand was up. “Don’t you ever use that word around me or my daughter!”

But Narcissa didn’t care. “You picked him, over me and over Bella. No wonder she fell so hard for the Dark Lord’s message, after losing one sister to them already.”

“I chose?” Andromeda repeated. “I chose? I got married, Narcissa. I wasn’t the one who decided I wasn’t family anymore. My choice didn’t cut me out of your life, not like Bella’s. She chose.”

“No.” Narcissa shook her head and stood up, beginning to pace back and forth in front of the house. She didn’t want to hear this, she couldn’t hear this.

“She did. And so did Sirius, and so did Regulus. Two in Azkaban, and one dead. They made choices.” Andromeda pointed to Draco. “Two little boys, same age as your son, without their parents now, thanks to the choices our family made. At least that many, not knowing what Regulus got up to. Alice and Frank Longbottom, and James and Lily Potter. And Sirius—” Her voice was full, and she stopped.

Narcissa knew Andromeda had been closer to Sirius than any of them. He had always been separate, always in trouble at home and then the lone Black family Gryffindor when they got to school. But he and Andromeda had gotten on. He liked Ted. He alone was thrilled they had gotten married.

“Did you ever hear anything? From Lucius or… I just never understood.” When she spoke again, her voice was husky.

“I stay out of Lucius’s affairs.” Narcissa took a deep breath, tried to calm down. Of course, she’d never heard a word about Sirius, but what good would it do to tell Andromeda that.

“He was best friends with James Potter, lived with him after he ran away. I tried to get in touch with his ex-boyfriend after everything, to find out if he knew what happened…” she trailed off, giving a shrug.

“His ex-boyfriend?”

“Don’t be more of a bigot than you need to be, Cissy,” Andromeda snapped.

“I didn’t know he dated boys.” Narcissa was surprised. She’d fully expected him to sleep with not just mudbloods, but fully muggle girls, one after the other, just to spite his mother. But this was news.

“He wasn’t likely to tell you or Bella, was he?” Andromeda said flatly. “Anyway, his ex was not eager to talk, and I can’t blame him. But I just wish I knew. And what about Regulus?”

“What about him?” she asked evenly.

It had been long enough that Narcissa could be cool and detached about Regulus. He was her favorite cousin. When they were eleven and waiting outside the Great Hall to be sorted, he had held her hand so she wouldn’t be scared. He was eighteen and she was eighteen, already married and pregnant with Draco. She’d screamed at Lucius and tried to hit him when she heard.

“Did Lucius tell you anything?” Andromeda asked.

“I already told you, I keep out of my husband’s affairs.” She looked at Draco. His big blue eyes were fixed on the dandelion in his hand, and Dora showed him how to blow the seeds away. He seemed to prefer pulling them off with his hand and throwing fistfuls into the breeze.

Narcissa had started practicing the phrase “I keep out of my husband’s affairs” the first day of last November. She loved Lucius, but she loved her son more. And when the world Lucius had set out to build for them and their son began to crumble, she kept a trunk packed for her and Draco and a lie ready to tell.

“Don’t be coy with me, Cissy. You must have asked, you must have wondered. Walburga didn’t invite me to the funeral or anything, but I heard enough about the body to have nightmares for weeks.” Andromeda stood up too, her voice growing louder. “He was always a sycophant just like Bella, but Regulus was practically still a child. And your husband and Bella and that thing they worshipped murdered him!”

“What do you care?” Narcissa demanded. “You wouldn’t have seen Regulus or Bella again anyway. You would never have invited Death Eaters to your home. You can’t even talk about our parents without sneering about our ideology.”

“Your pure-blood ideology is just an abstraction to you, Narcissa. Words you parrot from our parents, from Lucius, from Bella,” Andromeda spat, sparks erupting from the tip of her wand. “But that’s my husband and daughter you’re talking about. That’s my family!” 

She paused, her chest heaving, and they both turned to look out at their children again. Both sat in the grass staring wide-eyed. Even if they couldn’t hear their mothers, they could see them, standing toe to toe with wands drawn. Draco had frozen with a handful of grass clenched in his chubby fist, and Dora looked scared. “Mummy?” she asked in a small voice.

“Shit,” Andromeda muttered and flicked her wand in their direction then hastily tucked it back in her pocket. She made her voice bright and cheery. “Hi, darling, are you two still having fun?”

Narcissa strode past her and snatched Draco up from the grass. “Come here, sweet boy. It’s all right.” He wasn’t crying, but she thought she might start if she wasn’t holding him.

“What’s wrong?” Dora asked. She looked at both of them, but she sidled up to her mother.

“Nothing,” Andromeda said quickly. “Nothing. Just a squabble between sisters.” She glanced up at Narcissa, her eyes still bright and her breath still fast.

Narcissa nodded and forced herself to smile. “We really should be going. Lucius will be home soon.”

“Can I play with Draco again sometimes?” Dora asked, stepping forward from behind her mother’s leg. It was obvious that Andromeda had named her, and she even had a nickname. Just like the three of them. Andy, Bella, Cissy, and Dora.

“I had fun,” Dora added. Her eyes were big, pleading.

It had been a mistake, Narcissa thought. For no other reason than this.

She knelt down to meet Dora’s gaze, putting Draco back on the ground. “Maybe,” she lied. And Dora smiled.

Narcissa nudged Draco gently. “Go hug your cousin Dora goodbye.”

She and Andromeda watched as Dora bent down slightly to hug Draco. Then both children looked expectantly at their mothers. Gingerly, Narcissa put her arms around Andromeda, who abruptly hugged her close.

“Take care of yourself and Draco,” she whispered in Narcissa’s ear.

Narcissa stepped back. “We can show ourselves out.”

Andromeda nodded and took Dora’s hand in hers. “Bye, Cissy.” She turned to her daughter and said, “Let’s go check the mailbox to see if your gran has sent us a letter.”

Picking up Draco, Narcissa walked back into the house, pausing briefly to mutter “Reparo” over the mug she had broken. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a very tiny hope had lingered that maybe Lucius would allow it. It would help his case to have a half-blood niece, she had reasoned, and Andromeda was her sister. They would swap parenting spells and reminisce about their childhood. But all the things they shared in common were not enough to bridge the difference that gaped between them, open and empty and raw.

Draco buried his face in her shoulder once more as they stepped into the green flames. Back again in their own sitting room, he reemerged, rubbing his eyes a little sleepily with the back of one hand.

“Did you have fun today?” she asked him, as she carried him back to the nursery.

Draco nodded but also yawned. By the time Narcissa had laid him down, he was fast asleep. She watched him for a moment, smoothing his mussed blonde hair back from his forehead, hesitating. Then she pointed her wand at his head and whispered, “Obliviate.” She was sorry to steal a happy memory, but Narcissa knew what it was like to miss someone.

**Author's Note:**

> Not canon compliant because I'm pretty sure I messed up the birth order and ages of the Black sisters. Thanks for reading! Feedback is always appreciated.


End file.
